


A Walking, Talking Travesty

by orphan_account



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 16:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1906227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percy wears jeans tighter than Drew Tanaka’s and the tips of his hair are dyed bright blue. Annabeth has the most gorgeous blonde waves he’s ever seen, bright red lips, and an irrational love for pink skater skirts. He’s also extremely conscious of the fact that she’s out of his league. Punk!Percy and Girly!Annabeth. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Walking, Talking Travesty

;;;

Percy wears jeans tighter than Drew Tanaka’s and the tips of his hair are dyed bright blue.

Annabeth has the most gorgeous blonde waves he’s ever seen, bright red lips, and an irrational love for pink skater skirts.

He wears ratty black Converse and hides in the shadows.

She always walks in a pair of three-inch white heels, right in the middle of the hall, the white fluorescent lights beating down directly on her, like they were made to be her own personal spotlight.

They probably were.

He’s also extremely conscious of the fact that she’s out of his league.

She sits in front of him in English.

Sometimes he just gives up on trying to unscramble the mess of letters in his copy of Romeo and Juliet and tries to not let her perfume seep through his skin and into his veins, just so he doesn’t fall for her more than he already has.

Sometimes, he wishes that she wouldn’t wear skirts that short.

Sometimes, instead of doing his math homework, he fantasizes about her signature jungle red lipstick.

Sometimes, the worst thing is to know that you’re in love with someone, but also wishing you weren't.

;;

One day, it happens.

He’s still stuck on the fucking second page of Romeo and Juliet, and he lets out a groan as he realizes he’s never, ever going to finish the goddamn thing.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispers angrily, hopefully not loud enough for the teacher to hear.

He didn’t, but apparently someone else heard.

She turns in her seat and flutters her long, black eyelashes at him, and Percy resists the urge to repeat what he just said. Because this time he really did fuck up.

“Can I help you?” she asks pleasantly, and Percy may or may not have choked on his own saliva.

All he can think is ‘Holy fucking crapload of shit Annabeth Chase is talking to me fuck fuck fuck’.

Thankfully, he manages to stammer out, “No… no... everything’s fine...” and he turns red. He drops his pencil.

Then he groans internally, because punks. don’t. blush.

Annabeth’s trying so hard not to laugh, she’s shaking.

“Yeah. It was nice talking to you, Percy.”

And then the bell rings, and everyone files into the hallway, and Percy is still sitting there, watching her skirt swish as she walks out, trying to remember what his name is, and trying not to squeal at the fact that she knows it.

;;

Three days later, it happens again.

"Good morning, Percy," Annabeth says, smiling as he walks past her locker to get to the cafeteria.

Percy freezes in his tracks and manages to cough out a “M-m-morning”.

He takes a deep breath and tries again. “Good morning, Annabeth.”

Annabeth covers her mouth with her sleek white iPhone 5C, and he knows she’s laughing at him.

He manages to fight back the dopey grin he wants to wear and replaces it with his usual scowl.

She seems amused, but she apparently decides to ignore it. “New piercing, I see?”

Percy’s jaw drops, because she’s the last person he expected would notice, to everyone else, its just another spiral in his metal-riddled left ear.  
“Yeah… I… I didn’t think you’d notice...” he stammers.

Annabeth raises a perfectly manicured blonde eyebrow. “Maybe I notice more about you than I let on.”

Then she flounces away into the cafeteria, heels clicking, hair bouncing, like she wasn’t just flirting with him.

Annabeth Chase.

Percy pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes. “Oh my god, please don’t be a dream, please don’t be a dream.”

He whips out his own (black) iPhone 4S (because, of course, even Annabeth’s phone had to be out of his league) and tries to text Nico, his best friend and the only other person who knows about his crush, what just happened.

He types for a full ten minutes before hitting send.

He looks back at the text.

3 seconds ago.  
‘AnnaNanaNANANanananaaBeeeeeeeeeeeeTH’

;;

"Annabeth Chase? Like, the Annabeth Chase? Flirting? With you?" Nico asks.

“Yeah,” Percy says dreamily.

“Annabeth Chase. Annabeth fucking Chase.”

Percy steals a glance across the science lab, towards the middle table, where she sits.

She happens to be looking at him right that second, and smirks at him, like she knows exactly what he’s talking about before turning back to her friends.

“Annabeth Chase,” Percy whispers, one last time, just to make it official, before he shoves aside his safety goggles and drops his head onto the table.

Nico groans and drops his head, too. “Annabeth Chase.”

;;

The next week, Percy’s in the library, trying (and failing) to write a summary of Act I in Romeo and Juliet, but that’s fucking impossible because he’s only on page three.

Completely giving up, he heads over to one of the library computers to find a summary he can rip off from Sparknotes when he sees a flyer tacked up to the wall.

“’Free private tutoring,’” Percy reads. “’Math, English, Biology, or French. Contact—‘ holy fucking shit. ‘-- Annabeth Chase.’”

He swallows hard, looking around twice in each direction before tearing off one of the slips with her phone number on it.

Then he picks up his books and keys and runs to his car. And if he skips a little on the way, that’s for him to know, and most certainly not Annabeth Chase.

;;

Brrring, brrring. Brrring, brrring. Brrrin—“Hello?”

Percy gulps. He was hoping she wouldn’t pick up. “Uh… hey.

There’s a pause, and then— “Percy?”  
She doesn’t sound angry for him daring to call her, Percy notes. Good.

“Uh… yeah… maybe… unless you don’t want it to be… then I’m whoever—“

Annabeth laughs, and he stops talking because it’s the best sound he’s heard all day. “Percy, relax. What can I do for you?”

“Ummmm… Well, I saw your poster… The tutoring thing? And, uh, I’m kind of dyslexic, and I’m on page three of Romeo and Juliet, and the paper’s due the day after tomorrow, so, uh—“

“When are you free?” Annabeth interrupts. God, she is beautiful.

“Uh… now?”

“Great! Can you come over in… half an hour?”

Percy almost falls over himself in his haste to agree.  
She gives him her address, slowly spelling it out because of his dyslexia, and then cheerfully hangs up on him before he can say anything stupid.

He sits there gulping air like a goldfish out of its bowl for about half an hour before he picks up his keys and his books again and heads out to his pickup truck.

;;

“—Juliet describes her love for Romeo perfectly by refusing to describe it: “But my true love is grown to such excess / I cannot sum up some of half my wealth.” Love, in other words, resists any single metaphor because it is too powerful to be so easily contained or under— Percy? Are you listening?”

Percy shook himself out of his stupor. “Sorry,” he whispered.

He loved to watch her talk. It was fascinating. He would much rather write a thousand words on her than the stupid book, how she impatiently brushed away that wave of her hair that kept falling into her face every few minutes, how the silver bangle on her arm moved up and down as she made gestures, how her words flew out of her mouth and stitched together seamlessly, no cracks or breaks, flowing smoothly and evenly.

Annabeth smiled. “I think we should take a break and just… talk. So, what do you think of the book, she asked, getting up and pouring them two glasses of strawberry lemonade.

Percy looked down at the pink liquid in his cup. Normally, he would never drink something pink. But this wasn’t a normal day. So he drank it.

“Honestly? I think it’s a load of bullshit. If she loves him, she should be able to tell him how.”

Annabeth raised her eyebrows. “Hmmm. Interesting.”

Percy felt short of breath. “Yeah,” he said stupidly.

Annabeth suddenly checked her lipstick in the pitcher of lemonade, and Percy wanted to scream, “IT’S PERFECT!!!! YOU ARE PERFECT!!!”

He never gets the chance, because suddenly, she was leaning across the counter and she was kissing him and he was kissing her back and his hand was in his hair like he had always wanted it to be, and she thumbed his lip ring, and when they finally broke apart, breathing hard, Percy felt like he was floating.

“Was that descriptive enough?” Annabeth whispers.

He made a squeaking noise. “Yes,” he says in a tiny voice.

;;

Naturally, the whole school is shocked when they come into Goode High School the next day, holding hands.

But Annabeth isn’t shocked when the teacher hands Percy back his summary, and on the top right corner is his very first A+. She did do a good job explaining it to him, after all.

;;;


End file.
